A Day In The Life
by aboywhowantedtobegod
Summary: In the wild, wild, wastes. There is all manner of characters. Wild raiders, trigger happy sheriffs, heros and villains alike. However, there are also just people who want as normal a life as they can manage. Raze is one of those people. Rated T for violence and swears. Cover image from fallout wiki


Raze lifted his heavy eyelids, raising his hand slightly to shield his eyes from the pale dawn. Though he wasn't a morning person, he was forced to wake up if he wanted to get a decent pay. He tried to slide out of bed, his sleep mind forgetting about the arm of his still resting wife, who woke from the sudden movement.

"Do you really have to to go?" she murmured sleepily, idly wrapping her arm around her husband's waist, while Raze took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Can't you just stay in bed for a day?"

Raze smile gently, slipping his hand under the blanket, rubbing his wife's pregnant belly.

"I like the sound of that, but aren't you feeding for two?" He asked softly, feeling his wife move the arm that was wrapped around his waist to where his hand was now, resting it on top of it and squeezing Raze's hand tightly. "Besides, I don't think the little man will appreciate an empty stomach,"

Raze nodded his head to his first son's bedroom, the open doorway sharing a corner with the couple's bedroom. Normally, little Michael was up well before the crack of dawn and usually was the one to raise his dad for another day of hunting. His wife – Cheryl – sighed and submitted, removing her arm and opening her eyelids finally.

"I suppose you're right," she yawned, stretching out her arms.

"I'm always right," he chuckled softly, laughing a little bit when Cheryl leaned over to slap his arm softly, before sliding back under the thick blanket, rolling her eyes and muttering under her breath 'you wish'. Exhaling sharply, Raze leaned over to kiss his wife on the top of her head before sitting up and getting off the bed, wincing slightly as his warm bare feet made contact with the cold metal floor, much to his wife's amusement.

"Why do you think I wear socks in bed?" she giggled from under her fortress of warmth, as Raze jumped into the first pair of trousers his half awake mind grabbed, which was a pair of black trousers with some light armor padding, before going to pick up some well worn boots.

"Honey, I love you, but that shit is just weird as hell. What if you get too hot in the middle of the night?" He replied, grabbing a thin t-shirt that was originally white, but had grayed through age and repeated wear-and-tear. Raze then threw a thick leather jacket over his shoulders, adjusting it quickly.

"Then I just peel it off, and they feel nice and fresh against the cold,"

"Then why not just keep them off?" Raze asked, trudging to the corner of the room, where his bag pack, prepared the night before, and hunting rifle sat neatly in the furthest corner of the room. He picked them both up with ease, slinging both straps of the bag over his shoulder before doing the same with the strap of his hunting rifle.

"Still seems weird to me, honey,"

He walked over to the edge of the bed closest to his wife and leant down to her, pushing her bedraggled hair to the side and kissed her lips gently.

"I'll try to be back soon," he whispered as his wife gently nodded. "I love you,"

 **oo0oo**

Raze picked through the ruins of the nearby town, his sharp eyes looking for anything that had the any remote value. Stimpacks, food, and ammo were the most desirable items on Raze's daily agenda, but any scrap that he found had its fair share of need in his home town. Old man Caleb – an old ghoul who lived in his town – had a successful business in breaking down metal and using that metal to create cartridges, shells and bullets. Caleb often made sure to cut Raze a special deal: Raze's kind banter was a welcome change to the usually racist customers who only came to him out of need. Anything else, Caleb would still buy, though at a much smaller price.

Raze smiled, as he slipped a medical brace into his bag pack, shaking his head to himself. Two hundred years and people still glanced over the most trivial of things, he thought to himself. That's when he heard out of the back of the house.

Voices.

It was the evil whooping and cackling of junked up Raiders looking for their latest kill, skirting around the edge of the house Raze was currently in.

Raze gulped back his anxiety, instead going on survival mode. He had been doing this for too long to allow some junkies get the jump on him. Always, before he jumped in to a clear a house, he always made doubly sure that he was aware of his exits. Currently, he was in the kitchen. He had made note of a smashed window that was above the counter. The thin films of glass that were still in the frame jutted out dangerously, but Raze's thick torso was just small enough to slide through. Taking his thick jacket off, he flung it over the frame, some of the glass breaking off under the heavy leather. He threw his bag pack through, the heavy pack landing with a dull thud. This time, climbing through the tight hole, shimmying his body along with his rifle. He fell onto the nearby ground with a dull thud, quickly getting to drag his jacket down, making some of the shards clink off.

Big mistake.

"You hear that?" Raze heard a female voice say, alert and on edge. Shit, he thought. He had hoped the voice wouldn't come to investigate, but he heard dull footsteps coming silently towards where he had been originally. Pulling out a bowie knife that he kept in his belt, he held it at the ready, looking up at the gaping hole in the house, waiting to stab the head that was bound to pop out, mentally preparing himself for a fight. As the steps grew louder and louder, a thin layer of cold sweat formed on his forehead, fearing for his life. He was almost sure he was doomed. The raiders would tear him to shreds, leaving his wife alone. Worst case scenario, they would starve-

"Come on, Tam, you junkie bitch! You've got the med-x!" Raze heard a second voice, male and gruff, shout out, followed by a second pair of rushed boots against the hard floor and a scuffle. As arguing and infighting could be heard within the small bungalow, Raze didn't allow himself a second to count his lucky stars, throwing his large bag pack over his shoulders and ran quickly, staying low to avoid being seen. He would've made a mental note to tell the town's security that there was a raider group a bit too close for comfort, but he quickly shut down the idea as he heard gunshots rattling off nearby. It seemed the problem had solved itself. He stopped himself, and made a quick decision. He'd come back to get the goods later.

 **oo0oo**

"-Yeah, fuck you too!" Raze heard Old man Caleb shout out as a rather angry looking man pushed past him, not stopping to apologize. Raze, half smirking, to see the old ghoul's expression soften as soon as they made eye contact.

"Polite as always," Raze commented, half laughing and shaking his head as he unstrung his bag pack. "I thought it was standard customer service to be nice,"

"Well, I'm more than happy too, provided they aren't dickheads," the potty mouthed ghoul said, though he smiled as he made eye contact with his old friend. The old man was dressed in a simple blue jumpsuit, and he had piercing blue eyes that shone out against the peeling flesh. "What you got for me today, Raze?"

Without another word, Raze tipped out the contents of his bag onto the shop's countertop. Caleb helped sort out the contents, listing them off to himself, surprised towards the end of his listing.

"Raider armor? Chems? Guns? Where the fuck you find this scrap, boy?"

Raze answered honestly as he always did, telling him about his close encounter with a pack of ten raiders who were so high on a combination of chems they ended up shooting each other over the equivalent of nothing. Caleb hung on to every word, nodding his head occasionally to show he was following the story. When Raze was finally finished, he straightened up surveying his loot.

"Right… I'll give you money for the armor and the rest of the scrap," Caleb growled, pushing his share to one side of the counter, before pointing out the guns and chems. "But I'd pass these on to the doc and security team. This is a lucky find, Raze, it'll help this town a lot."

Raze nodded his head once, packing them back into his bag as Caleb started to put away the scrap and metal, turning back to an ancient cash register, counting out a couple of hundred caps and taking some supplies off the shelves for Raze, knowing his order off by heart. It was always the same: food for his family, and bullets for his rifle.

"So what was that guy's problem?" Raze tilted his head towards the door.

"Guy didn't like my prices, called me a melted shit," Caleb stated simply as he picked out some dried radstag meat. "God damn travelers,"

 **Oo0oo**

Raze went about his day, running errands as Caleb recommended. He usually didn't deal much with mentioned parties, though he was well known about the town. Their transactions were quick and bountiful for Raze, getting paid in plentiful caps and personal thanks from the head of security and doctor. By the time he went home, the sun was already beginning to set. As he neared the door of his home and twisted the door handle, he grinned to himself. Despite everything, today had been worth it.

"Hello, honey" His wife called out from one of the nearby rooms, followed by the happy yelling of his son.

"Daddy!" The young boy ran across the room, his small feet making dull thuds as he sprinted into his father's arms. Raze easily picked him up, kissing his forehead softly.

"Hey little man," He smiled as he made into the living room where his wife was sitting on a deteriorated couch, flicking through a magazine. She looked up from where she was reading, the corners of her mouth up turning as the two adults made eye contact.

"Good day?" She asked flatly. Chuckling, Raze threw his full weight on the couch next to his wife. Chuckling, he thought about everything that had transpired. His close encounter that turned from a brush with death into a lucky payday, helping out the town, and the thick bag of caps that sat at the bottom of his bag pack.

"I think I'll take a few days off,"

 **(Notes: And there you have it! This is a small idea I had when playing the fallout games, just wondering what lives some of the NPCs might have lived. As for this story, this may be the last we see of Raze, I only intended it to be a day in the life short story. That being said, we'll see. Hope you guys enjoy and ADIOS!)**


End file.
